


The phantom bird

by theseatheseatheopensea



Category: Sapphire and Steel
Genre: 18th Century, Elemental Weirdness, Gen, Historium Commentfest 2019, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 12:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17980991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseatheseatheopensea/pseuds/theseatheseatheopensea
Summary: The bird looks at him sharply, with unblinking eyes. Suddenly, the world seems to shake. The invisible cloud seems to cover everything in its path, and the air whispers wrong, wrong, wrong. The bird shrieks, calling up an old, evil feeling. Its phantom song seems to unhinge the quiet afternoon and the world and time itself.Silver ends up in West Drayton on a Sunday. Or perhaps, a Friday. Cue time skips, a strange bird, and some very clever sleight of hand.





	The phantom bird

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this prompt](https://historium.dreamwidth.org/14759.html?thread=101031#cmt101031), and [this story](http://www.mysteriousbritain.co.uk/hauntings/st-martins-church-west-drayton) about a phantom bird in a West Drayton church.

"West Drayton, eh? How dreadfully normal. I bet it is even a Sunday." Silver sighs and smoothes down his vest. It could be worse, he knows. At least he is sharply dressed, and the weather is pleasant enough. The sun plays with the buttons in his coat, and he hums to himself. If he must do some work, he might as well get it over with, so he can find something else to amuse himself with.

"What seems to be the problem, then?" Silver mutters quite cheerfully to himself, taking in the surroundings. There is a small scattering of trees, a church and a bored-looking dog that barely looks up as he walks closer. There are no people around, which might be either a good or a bad thing. He will decide later.

He fiddles with his tools and narrows his eyes, feeling out for any strange skips in time. Ah yes, there it is. He can sense it - a strange, electrical feeling in the air, a deep, heavy cloud that feels wrong, a strange thing that shouldn't be _here_. In the blink of an eye, something shifts, and he doesn't know what year it is, but it's not _now_ anymore. He feels the pull of time, and it seems to take him back to a quiet Friday afternoon, when the world wasn't quite as old.

Silver sighs again. The dullness of the place annoys him. But something is definitely amiss, and if he is going to fix this, he needs to get closer. So he approaches the church, tentatively. The dog's ears shoot up, but he ignores it. He has work to do.

He pushes the door and walks inside. The place is dark and it smells old. He expects to find a stronger disturbance near the vaults, but he sees it right away. Of course. A bird, closely resembling a raven, but bigger and definitely _wrong_. He has never seen anything like it before, but he feels time pulsing through it like a whirlwind. It folds its wings, and seems to regard him with interest. In turn, Silver gives it his full attention.

"Well, well. There you are. Causing trouble, are you?"

The bird looks at him sharply, with unblinking eyes. Suddenly, the world seems to shake. The invisible cloud seems to cover everything in its path, and the air whispers _wrong, wrong, wrong_. The bird shrieks, calling up an old, evil feeling. Its phantom song seems to unhinge the quiet afternoon and the world and time itself.

Silver frowns. This won't do. He reaches into his pockets and rummages through them until he finds a tinfoil wrapper, which will do nicely. He turns it around in his hands for a few moments, his eyes never leaving the bird. It pecks angrily at the wooden pew it is perched upon. It glares at Silver defiantly. When it shakes its wings, the ground seems to move underneath his feet. No, this definitely won't do.

He spreads out his hands, and he displays a perfectly round object, shiny and bright, a bit like a marble, but not _quite_. He raises it up in the air, like a tempting offering, and tosses it upwards. The bird lunges into the air. It catches it with its beak, and just like that, they both disappear. Just as expected. Silver smiles, a bit smugly, and dusts off his hands.

There are still no people around, so his usual competence goes mostly unnoticed. It is quite alright, though. He certainly doesn't need reassurance. He walks out briskly, with a bright, shiny spring in his step. Other interesting things probably await him, and he doesn't look back. Meanwhile, time settles back into its comfortable boredom, and the dog yawns, lulled to sleep by the quiet normality of the afternoon.


End file.
